“The winds have sent you right to me . . . exactly what I need.”
At Wyneth’s side, a giant creature with both hair and scales flopped itself down and curled up, bumping Wyneth’s hip, causing her to scream again and cover her mouth as she stared at it, trembling. Aerity and Vixie both jumped.
What in Eurona was it? Aerity stared, immobilized by fear.
“I told you, girl, he won’t hurt you. He’s trained to feed only from those with the scent of a grown man like that one who interrupted its sleep.”
This . . . oh, seas . . . this was the beast! And it had killed the guard, a good man with a family, a young son. Aerity, flooded with panic, swallowed back the urge to be sick. She had to help Wyneth. She had to get into that room, but this door was the only entrance into the warehouse area. Aerity looked up at the high roof. A weathered ladder was at the corner they’d passed, and sections of the roof were missing, caved in.
Aerity had to move fast. She held Vixie’s waist tightly, moving them back to the corner. She spoke in barely a whisper. “I’m going in.”
Vixie shook her head in panic. The girl’s eyes went up the ladder. “It’s not safe!”
“Hold it for me as best as you can while I climb. Then go to the shore and signal the hunters to come.” Aerity looked down at her sister’s leg. It was worse than she’d thought, gaping red muscle showing. A path of blood trailed where she’d walked. And the side of Vixie’s foot was swollen and bruised with scratches. Her face appeared drained, like she might pass out. Aerity wanted to tend to her, but there was no time.
Her eyes skittered around, searching for something she could use as a weapon, but all the fallen branches were toobrittle, too small. Finally, she saw a jagged rock the size of her fist. She quietly bent to pick it up and stood again, flattening herself to the wall. Vixie grabbed a nearby rock as well, following her sister’s actions. They squeezed the rocks into their pockets.
Aerity took hold of the ladder, giving it a gentle shake. Dustings of particles showered down. Aerity wiped her face and began to climb, testing each rung in her hand before applying weight. A few had to be bypassed. She looked down once to see Vixie’s frightened hazel eyes staring up at her as she held the ladder tightly, balanced on one foot. Good girl.
Aerity lifted herself gingerly onto the edge of the roof, which hadn’t fared well. She crawled to the largest gap of warped wood and lowered her head. A series of beams ran along the ceiling, crisscrossing. It was a far drop. Across the space, at the back of the warehouse, was a pulley system of ropes that’d been used to lift and lower crates. If Aerity could get to that, she could climb down. Her heart raced as she reached down for a beam, grabbing hold with her fingers and swinging her legs around.
The woman’s back was to Aerity; her hair was black and she wore a gown of the richest red. Wyneth was stock-still, continuing to stare down at the thing at her side. It seemed benign, harmless, but Wyneth’s face appeared ready to crack, her voice like shaken shards. “It . . . he . . . what do you meantrained?”
Aerity still couldn’t see the woman’s face, but her voicesounded pleased, as if she was smiling. “All my life I have prepared, royal girl, to take back what is mine—my family’s, my peoples’. For years I watched my father create and fail, but he never gave up. He went to his grave, laughing with satisfaction when he had succeeded at last, not even caring that his own creation took his life. And then I began building on what he had started, allowing it to grow. Now . . . finally . . . I have succeeded.” The woman paused, and Aerity let the horror of her words sink in.
She carefully lifted herself onto the beam, as wide as her hand’s length, and began to move on her hands and knees. Her breaths felt so loud, but neither Wyneth nor the woman seemed to notice her. She hoped to the seas that if Wyn saw, she’d have sense not to bring attention to her.
“Why?” Wyneth rasped, her shoulders curling in. “Why would you make this thing? Do have any idea what your experiment has done?”
“Oh, yes. Our experiment has shown that my people still hold power, even when others tried to take it from us.”
Aerity moved lithely, glancing at her cousin between movements. Wyneth shook her head, horrified, trembling in terror. “Who are you?”
“These hands,” the woman mused, not answering. “They look harmless, no?”
Wyneth shook her head, took a step backward.
“Do not move,” the woman snapped. “I don’t need my beast to kill you. My own hands can do that easily enough.”So the woman was Lashed. And insane.
Aerity’s mouth went dry. Her heart was wildly skipping beats, and her mind could hardly process what she was hearing. She had to act fast. With hesitation, Aerity looked down toward the guard, a sense of vertigo temporarily dazing her. This was higher than she’d ever climbed. Finally her senses righted and her eyes bypassed the guard’s mutilated torso, locking on the bow sticking out from under his back, the arrows that had half slid from their quiver.
Aerity needed to get to that bow, but she’d have to get past the woman.
“Who are you?” Wyneth repeated.
“Ah, yes. Soon, everyone will know. Now that I have you for bargaining power. I am Rozaria Rocato.”
Rocato? As intheRocato? Aerity’s hand slipped, and she gripped the beam hard, wobbling. Slivers of wood fell as she flattened herself downward. She swore she saw Wyneth’s eyes go up, but her gaze dropped just as quickly.
“R-Rocato?” Wyneth gave a tiny sound of surprise from the back of her throat.
“You fear the name Rocato, do you?” asked the woman. “As you should. I am the granddaughter of Rodolpho Rocato, the greatest Lashed to ever live.”
No. Wyneth gave a strangled gasp. Aerity wanted to stay still and listen, but she had to move. She arrived at a junction in the middle of the ceiling. A vertical beam stood in her path. Aerity rose, flat-footed with her toes splayed for balance. Shehad to crouch so as not to hit her head on the ceiling. She brought her arms around the beam and wound her leg around it until she felt the horizontal beam on the other side. Carefully, she slid her body around, shifting her weight.
The woman’s voice filled with dark glee. “Our blood is not diluted. The past five generations of our family have all been Lashed. My great-grandfather helped all the people in his town, and they showered him with gifts. That is how it was meant to be—symbiotic. My great-grandfather was overjoyed when his only son was called upon to be a healer of the royals.”
Again, Aerity lowered to her hands and knees to crawl. She wasn’t too far from the ropes now.
